


Good Luck Wishing

by Hazzalovescarrots



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Locker room smut, M/M, blowjob, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 03:33:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazzalovescarrots/pseuds/Hazzalovescarrots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis had a football game. Before, though, he needs a little good luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Luck Wishing

   Harry waits outside the locker room, fiddling with his phone and crossing his ankles. His worn-out boots are scraping against the floor, back leaning on the frame of the door. He patiently waits with a smug look on his face. They always do this; Louis and Harry.

   Before every football game, Harry joins Louis in the locker room for a pep talk and a good luck kiss. This time, though, Harry is going for something slightly more relaxing and luck-bringing.

   The door behind him opens and a hand grabs Harry’s sleeve. He is pulled into the room and settled against one of the lockers. Louis is in front of him, blue eyes wild and his hair perfectly swept to one side, sticking up a little here and there. His skin is golden and tan and his jaw is free of stubble, which makes Harry trace his fingers along the sharp line of it.

   Louis huffs out a breath and lets his head fall forward, burying it in Harry’s chest. The younger boy drapes an arm around Louis’ back, rubbing it comfortingly.

   “I’m so nervous,” Louis mumbles. “This is the first time the girls are here to see me play. I don’t want to let them down.”

   Harry shushes him. “No, none of that, now. You are an amazing player, babe, without a doubt. And the girls are always proud of you. Especially the twins. You’re a role model for them.”

   Louis whimpers and swats him on the hip. “You’re not helping.”

   Harry laughs heartedly and lifts Louis’ chin, kissing him deeply. “I’m sorry. I only came to wish you good luck.” Louis smiles and kisses him just below his jaw.

   “Thanks, Haz. Now, I guess I should-“ He attempts to back away from Harry, but the boy swiftly turns them around, pressing Louis to the locker, cutting off Louis, midsentence.     

   “I haven’t done anything yet, have I?” Harry smirks. His hand trails down Louis’ torso, down to the edge of his shorts. He delves a hand inside and revels in the gasp it draws out of Louis. Harry kisses the boy’s neck, sucking marks that he knows will be visible during the game, but he doesn’t care.

   Louis is more than half-hard in his knee-length shorts as Harry strokes him, thumbing over the swollen slit of his hardness. Louis is leaking pre-come and Harry spreads it all over him.

   “Harry,” Louis chokes out. Harry grins and, without warning, yanks the boy’s shorts down. Louis’ eyes fly open, wide and full of color. “Babe, I don’t think…”

   “Shut up, it’s for good luck,” Harry says and drops to his knees. He knows Louis has to run out on the field very soon, so he doesn’t waste time in taking the head of Louis’ cock. He sucks lightly, teasing his boyfriend. He draws back to drag his tongue slowly along the thick veins on the underside of Louis’ length. He does this again and again until Louis becomes agitated; he’s so hard, it makes his face flush a light pink and his skin burn.

   “Such a fucking teas-ungh!”

   Harry takes him as deep as he can, working him around in his mouth. He inches down, running his palms up and down Louis’ thighs. He grips them hard in his hands and digs his nails into the firm, luscious, tanned skin there. God, everything about this boy screams sunlight and gentleness and light sass, yet here he is, getting sucked off in the locker room of his football team.

   It takes a few moments, but soon enough, Harry is working him deep in his throat, nose almost pressed to Louis’ lower abdomen. He senses that Louis is close, by the clenching of his fists and bucking of his hips and the rumbling low in his chest.

   He pulls back, stiffens his tongue and digs it into the slit of Louis’ throbbing cock. Louis chokes out Harry’s name, biting down on his clenched fist to keep from crying out. He knows the rest of his team are hovering somewhere in the hallway outside and struggles to keep quiet as he comes. Harry swallows most of it, only letting some of it dribble onto his chin, which he wipes away with his thumb to stick it in his mouth. Louis moans at the sight.

   Harry rises to his feet, lifting up Louis’ shorts and petting him on his stomach. Louis bats his hand away, mumbling something about Harry being an insufferable prick. The curly-haired boy takes hold of his boyfriend’s jaw to pull him in for a kiss. It’s slow and involves tongue and Louis is running his hands up the other boy’s back.

   “But you love me,” Harry murmurs, his lips moving over Louis’, who sighs, fisting his hands in Harry’s shirt.

   “I do. You’re a complete idiot, but I do love you,” Louis muses, trailing his mouth over Harry’s jaw and reaching up on his tippy toes to nibble on Harry’s earlobe. “Now, get out. I have a game to get to.”

   Louis runs off, leaving Harry standing, with a fond look on his face, staring at Louis’ bum, which is damn near mouth-watering, in those football shorts.


End file.
